The Retelling of The Three Brothers
by Insanityisgood25
Summary: Translations lose the true meanings of a story. The tale, to Beedle's, to runes and then translated by Hermoine always leave something to be desired. Instead of 'Death', it was actually 'Immortal'...


**AN- This idea struck me in the most inopportune moment EVER! So I have struggled to write this one shot several times and finally decided that I should follow Rowling's words, almost to the letter, hence some sentences and paragraphs are almost identical to the Original works of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, since her story is perfection personified.**

**Thank you to WhatMakesYouSoSpecial for checking this for me (you're awesome and you know it :D)**

**I do not own The Tales of Beedle the Bard, who is JK Rowling's, nor do I own Merlin, who is owned by the BBC etc.**

There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely winding forest pathway at twilight, the sun dipping behind the trees, casting long shadows across the forest floor. In time, the brothers reached a large stream too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across as the currents swirled, being able to easily trap a person with force. However, these brothers were trained in the magical arts and so they simply waved their hands in front of them and they made a wooden bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across their bridge when a gust of magical wind stopped them. Their path was blocked by a blue cloaked figure, with his hood pulled up to conceal his face.

"Who are you?" The first brother asked, fearing for the rest of his family briefly.

"Immortal," the cloaked figure answered. "Congratulations on creating this second bridge to the Fisher King's lands. It takes great skill to do such a thing-it's impressive to see such talent from such a young age."

"We've practised for many years," the third brother said meekly.

"And it shows," Immortal replied. "What would you like as a prize for this fine accomplishment?"

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man asked: "A wand. The most powerful wand made of the finest wood to channel my magic into the most powerful magic ever to be seen."

"Are you sure? Great power holds great knowledge which in turn, holds great responsibility."

"Of course I'm sure," the first brother answered.

The cloaked man nodded; he held out his hand and an elder tree's branch snapped and formed a wand which was intricately carved, yet held an air of simplicity to it. It floated into Immortal's pale outstretched hand and then handed it to the eldest brother, carefully.

The second brother, who was an arrogant man decided he wanted the greatest magic; the magic over life and death, which only two people possessed in the Five Kingdoms, one already dead and the other in front of the brother.

"I cannot give you such a thing," Immortal said.

"Why?!" The second brother roared. "You asked us what we wanted and I would like this!"

"I cannot give you the power to temper with lives, however I can give you sight of the deceased." Immortal reached into his cloak, a piece of red cloth secured around neck briefly showing, and held a square pebble out. "This stone is from the Lake of Avalon. It will show your loved ones if you turn it thrice in hand."

The second brother snatched it from Immortal's hands and grinned as he gazed at the object that he now possessed.

And then Immortal turned to ask the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers (like Immortal himself) and he did not feel comfortable asking for powerful objects like his brothers, so he asked simply, "May I have a warm travelling cloak?" Before any of his brothers could protest, Immortal untied the golden string on his cloak, revealing a tall lanky form of a young man, with a mop of jet black hair and a pair of dark blue orbs which held more age than his youthful face, and handed the blue material to the youngest brother.

"Thank you," said the youngest brother; the only brother to show his gratitude to the warlock.

Immortal nodded in response and stepped aside and allowed the three brothers to continue in their journey.

The youngest brother paused at the edge of the wooden bridge and turned to the now uncloaked figure.

"What is your name, so I may repay you?"

"You need not repay me; your kindness is payment enough as you've built a bridge so I may enter and leave these lands without talking to Grettir, who talks in riddles and doesn't keep secrets." Immortal laughed. "You've saved me from one bout of riddles."

"Your name, good sir?"

"Emrys."

The youngest man nodded. "Thank you, Emrys."

"You're welcome. Now on with you. Your brothers won't wait for you-Hurry!" Emrys said, his eyes glinting with humour.

The youngest brother hurried after his brothers, fastening the cloak around his neck, seeing the blue fabric billowing behind him, slowly disappearing into the great expanse of forest.

In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother travelled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village which went by the name of Ealdor, he sought out a fellow sorcerer with whom he quarrelled with. Naturally, with the elder wand as his weapon of choice, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to a local tavern, where he boasted loudly of his superiority over others with his hand-crafted wand.

That very night, another sorcerer crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, far from sober, upon his bed. The thief stole the wand and slit the man's throat.

Avalon took the first brother for their own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, which was on his family estate, where he lived alone. He took the stone from his breeches' pocket and turned it thrice in hand. To his amazement and delight, the figure of the woman that he had hoped to betroth before being executed for sorcery by Uther Pendragon, appeared before him.

Yet she was silent and cold, separated from him as though by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so he could join her.

And so Avalon took the second for their own.

The last brother continuously wore the cloak, finding that the cloak held the skill of invisibility. When he had attained a great age, he passed his cloak onto his only son.

He stepped into Avalon's waters, at peace with himself and the life that he had led.

However, if Merlin, the warlock whom had passed on these great gifts, knew what these objects possessed and the great evil they would cause and create, he would have never given then to the brothers nor would he have predicted the destinies that would have been written in that moment nor the prophecies that would be spoken of.

The Deathly Hallows were always real, no matter what people said and what parents always dictated to be stories, however after many translations of this tale, some of the meaning was lost and the gaps in the story were corrupted for Beedle's needs to sing to his fellow countrymen in the cities of the Five Kingdoms, including the great city of Camelot.

No one could have known how long these stories would live on in the hearts of men.

Their stories became Immortal.

**First crossover done!**

**Hope to see you soon!**

**Please review, favourite, follow, PM, whatever...**

**Insanity x**


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